that Bastien had come by to help sort out some last-minute problems with the wedding. Which explained nicely why Lucern hadnât been able to reach him.
âWhat I donât understand,â Bastien said as Lucern finished off the second bag and retracted his teeth, âis why you didnât simply get into her head and suggest she leave.â
âI tried,â Lucern admitted wearily. He placed both empty bags in the hand Rachel held out, then watched her walk out of the room to dispose of them. âBut I could not get into her mind.â
The silence that followed was as effective as great gusty gasps would have been from anyone else. Etienne and Bastien stared at him, stunned.
âYouâre kidding,â Bastien said at last.
When Lucern shook his head, Etienne dropped onto the chair across from him and said, âWell, donât tell Mother if you donât want her pushing you two together. The minute she heard that I couldnât read Rachelâs mind was the minute she decided weâd make a good couple.â He paused thoughtfully. âOf course, she was right.â
Lucern grunted in digust. âWell, Ms. Kate C. Leever is not perfect for me. The woman is as annoying as a gnat flying about your head. Stubborn as a mule, and pushy as hell. The damned woman has not given me a momentâs peace since pushing her way over my doorstep.â
âNot true,â Bastien argued with amusement. âYou managed to give her the slip long enough to come here.â
âThat is only because she was tired and went to bed. Sheâ¦â He paused suddenly and sat up straight, recalling her promise to check on him every hour to be sure his head injury hadnât done more damage than he believed. Would she really do that? He glanced sharply at his brothers. âHow long have I been here?â
Bastienâs eyebrows rose curiously, but he glanced at his watch and said: âIâm not positive, but Iâd guess youâve been here about forty, forty-five minutes.â
âDamn.â Lucern was on his feet at once and heading for the door. âI have to go. My thanks for the drinks, Rachel,â he called loudly at the other room.
âWait. Whatâ¦?â
Bastien and Etienne got up to follow, questions slipping from their lips, but Lucern didnât stop to answer. Heâd locked his office door before leaving the house, and Kate might assume that meant he was in there, but if she really did check on him hourly and got no answer when she knocked on the door, the damned woman might decide heâd died or something and call the police or an ambulance. She might even break down his office door herself. There was just no telling what that woman might do.
He came up with a couple of doozies as he hurried home.
Fortunately, she hadnât done any of them by the time he returned. She was up and trying to rouse him, thoughâthat much was obvious the moment he opened the front door. He could hear her shouting and banging on his office door all the way downstairs. Rolling his eyes at the racket she was making and the panic in her voice as she called his name, Lucern pocketed his house keys and jogged upstairs. He came to an abrupt halt at the top of the steps.
Dear God, the woman didnât just eat rabbit food, she wore rabbit slippers.
Lucern gawked at the ears flopping over the furry pink bunny slippers she wore, then let his gaze slide up over her heavy, also pink and fuzzy, housecoat. If he didnât already know she had a nice figure, he wouldnât know now. Then he caught a glimpse of her hair and winced. Sheâd gone to bed with wet hair and had obviously tossed around a lot in her sleep; her hair was standing on end in every direction.
On the bright side, she obviously didnât intend on stooping to seducing him into doing any of those publicity things she was so fired up for him to do. Oddly enough, Lucern actually felt a touch